“I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I say unto you: you still have chaos in yourselves.”

Nietzche

In those moments when we find ourselves alone in the storm of existence, panic and confusion set in. It’s the awareness of our own chaos that I fear, a fear that has guided my life, urging me to avoid these moments that shake the foundations of the persona protecting me.

The inauguration of my first rehab came through an intervention in our office meeting room, a moment that left me feeling like a trapped dog in a corner. The dark storm cloud I had been avoiding had finally caught up, leaving me with no escape. Running from that meeting, I sought solace in a bottle of vodka before meeting my fate and entering rehab.

Within the confines of that first rehab, I grappled with the loss of my identities as a husband, father, pastor, and friend. The facades supporting these roles crumbled under their unreasonable expectations. Strange child-like behaviors emerged – stealing shower supplies or notebooks – a coping mechanism born out of the chaos within. Everything from 30 years was gone and I was just a little boy again.

As explored in my previous post, avoidance only intensifies the chaos we sidestep. The monsters we avoid grow larger when left unacknowledged. That first rehab was the awakening – the realization that I had lost myself. The subsequent rehab marked a shift; I stopped rebuilding facades and confronted the void they left behind.

In my most recent rehab, after a DUI and a stint in suicide-watch, the order of my life and the protective shells I had crafted were stripped away. Staring out of the passenger window, the desire to live became my sole focus. Here, within the rehab, I began the inward journey, drawing a circle around myself, exploring the singularity that contained a universe of noise, chaos, mess, and confusion.

Two and a half years later, I remain within that circle, sorting through secrets, demons, shame, and delusion. The process involves navigating my own complexities to find something genuine for each moment and challenge. Life’s new stages feel different, devoid of the bubbles that once buffered existence’s overwhelming presence. Insecurities, defenses, and tricks no longer provide safety.

Recently, the lessons resurfaced in relationships. Being with someone is challenging, but being with oneself in a relationship is even harder. The descent into self-flagellating talk and false beliefs becomes unavoidable. Vulnerability exposes the hidden aspects we prefer to conceal, forcing us to confront ourselves honestly within committed relationships.

“In all chaos, there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.”

Carl Jung

In “My Stroke of Insight,” Taylor highlights the brain’s right hemisphere for relationships, connection, and chaos, while the left seeks order and analysis. Jordan Peterson and Dr. Iain McGilchrist discuss the left hemisphere’s orientation toward order and the right hemisphere’s inclination toward chaos. Dr. Iain McGilchrist, author of “The Master and his Emissary,” which explores the division of the left and right brain as a division between order and chaos. The left hemisphere is oriented for order and the right hemisphere is oriented towards chaos.

Our world, like our brains, navigates the delicate dance between chaos and order. Emerging from the disorder of human lives, we come into existence. Religions grapple with this dichotomy, and individuals often prefer hiding in either chaos or order. The fear of acknowledging the chaos within ourselves leads us to avoid consequences and lose our identity in other people’s issues.

Out of chaos emerged a small voice within me that wanted more than the hidden “Me” of 35 years. As everything collapsed within, frenzied fixing proved futile. Only when the force of self-deception dropped low enough did everything rush in, leaving behind the fragments and vapors of an imposter.

Change became possible within the remnants of self-destruction. Hope became less terrifying, and control over myself became a reality. Metaphorical circles were drawn around everything and everyone else, yet holding the reins around myself felt strange. Understanding on paper didn’t translate until lived out, making my body shake as I confronted the deep-seated crud I had mastered at hiding.

Chaos, often perceived as destructive, is the crucible for new creation. From chaos, beauty and work emerge. Death precedes rebirth, and blindness precedes sight. Order necessitates chaos to create anew. Stars are born out of chaos, supporting the solar system that follows. In the midst of darkness, the light within remains extinguished. Lean into the chaos, the noise. It’s not in the wind or the fire or the quakes but beneath them that peace is found.